Chapter 53: Late Arrival Tips

The silence lasted for several breaths.

The entire space was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

All the black-robed figures lowered their heads, lost in thought.

The corpse lay in the center, ignored, untouched, as if it had never existed.

After a long pause, the older-voiced black-robed figure spoke slowly, his tone heavy: “…The Anomaly…”

His voice echoed in the space, like a whisper from the depths of an abyss.

Another black-robed figure spoke, his tone tinged with excitement: “Since the opportunity has come, should we act early and launch the plan against the Luo Clan?”

The older-voiced figure pondered briefly, then nodded. “…Yes.”

“Though the Anomaly’s actions are hard to predict, I believe its existence doesn’t conflict with our goals.”

He paused, then added, “It might even… be used for our benefit.”

His words fell, and the black-robed figures exchanged silent glances.

Another spoke up: “Then it’s settled.”

No one objected.

They all turned their gazes to Li Yunzheng, still kneeling in the center.

Instantly, the air grew colder.

Li Yunzheng felt the pressure, cold sweat dripping.

“I… understand what to do,” he said, voice trembling.

“If you handle this well, the Li Clan… may receive another pill personally refined by the Nether Lord,” the older-voiced figure said bluntly. “Of course, you’ll provide the materials.”

“Thank you, my lords. The Li Clan won’t fail you.” Li Yunzheng kowtowed, his forehead striking the stone floor.

He rose slowly, stepped back, bowed again, and left the dim, oppressive underground space.

…

The next day.

Luo Residence.

Luo Jiutian, sitting cross-legged in his courtyard, opened his eyes and exhaled a turbid breath.

He inspected his dantian, where a faintly glowing Golden Core had stabilized, its energy unusually robust, far surpassing that of a typical early Golden Core cultivator.

Indeed, he had broken through from peak Foundation Establishment to mid-Golden Core.

Not early Golden Core—mid-Golden Core.

Originally, refining the Tempering Origin Persimmon would’ve barely pushed him to early Golden Core.

But unexpectedly, at the moment of breakthrough, a warm, pure spiritual energy surged within, compressing and refining the forming core, transforming it multiple times until it stabilized at mid-Golden Core.

“So miraculous?” Luo Jiutian murmured, lowering his gaze.

That spiritual energy, naturally, came from Luo Yunlan.

But more than the cultivation surge, something else concerned him.

“System,” he said gravely, “why was there no tribulation lightning for my breakthrough?”

Normally, a cheater like him should attract extra attention from the Heavenly Dao.

That’s how it worked in other stories.

Yet now, the Heavenly Dao showed no reaction.

Not even a breeze, let alone a tribulation.

The system’s voice chimed in: [Uh… well, I quietly covered it up for you, Host.]

“Oh?” Luo Jiutian raised a brow. “You’re that powerful?”

[No, no, not really!]

[I’m not that strong… I just used my energy, and since your breakthrough was very ‘local,’ the Heavenly Dao hasn’t noticed yet.]

[Once you kill the first Chosen One, the Heavenly Dao will catch on, and… well, the owed tribulations will hit double.]

Luo Jiutian: “…”

He sighed, half-exasperated. “Can I cancel the cover-up now?”

[If you cancel it now, the Heavenly Dao will start targeting you, and the plot might spiral into unpredictable chaos… Are you sure, Host?]

“…Forget it then.” He sighed again. “I’ve still got some good stuff to grab on this map. Can’t afford any messes.”

[Mm.]

The courtyard fell quiet, morning sunlight spilling onto the path, dappled shadows dancing among the leaves.

Luo Jiutian was about to close his eyes and rest when the system spoke again: [Oh, right, Host.]

“Hm?”

[Ding! Host has successfully caused the Chosen One ‘Luo Chen’ to break down, converting destiny points…]

[Current Blue Star return countdown: 265 years, 6 months.]

[6 months deducted, remaining: 265 years.]

Luo Jiutian: ?

…

The scene shifted.

Luo Residence, central training ground.

“Hah!”

Luo Yuanshan, bare-chested, practiced his punches in the arena.

Each fist roared out, the force trembling the air with low hums.

After refining the Tempering Origin Persimmon, his cultivation had surged from late Foundation Establishment to peak, and his physical strength had grown too.

Suddenly, he stopped.

His body had briefly glowed.

The light lasted only a moment before vanishing, as if nothing had happened.

“Hm?”

He raised his arm, inspecting it, but found nothing amiss.

“Weird…”

Muttering, he shook his fist and resumed his stance, throwing another punch.

Boom—!

The fist’s force howled, shattering a corner of a specialized puppet.

Luo Yuanshan: ?

“When… did I get this strong?”

Though at peak Foundation Establishment, the puppet was for Golden Core cultivators to train techniques. A Foundation Establishment punch should’ve left him reeling, not broken it.

Staring at the cracked puppet, he sat down, puzzled, sinking into thought.

“Could it be related to that glow?”

…

Elsewhere.

Luo Yan noticed the same anomaly.

But he was traveling and had no time to dwell on it.

He held a palm-sized wooden box, intricately carved with a small array to seal the contents’ aura.

Soon, he arrived at a secluded courtyard.

Pushing the door open, a mix of medicinal and aged wood scents hit him.

Inside, an elderly man with white hair sat, hunched, leaning on a sandalwood cane.

This was Luo Yan’s father, Luo Dingchuan.

“Father.” Luo Yan bowed.

“You traitor!” Luo Dingchuan shot up, swinging his cane.

Luo Yan didn’t dodge, letting it strike his shoulder with a dull thud. The cane trembled, but he kept his head down.

“Do you know what you’ve done?!” Luo Dingchuan roared, shaking. “Provoking the Young Master—do you think our branch lives too long?!”

He struck again.

Luo Yan gritted his teeth, unmoving.

When the cane finally stopped, he slowly looked up.

His expression calm, he presented the wooden box. “Father, please look.”

Luo Dingchuan took it impatiently, muttering, “Even if you bring pills or spirit stones, it…”

His words caught in his throat.

Inside was a glossy, golden-tinged fruit.

“This… a Tempering Origin Persimmon?”